assignments involve seducing a woman who so clearly wanted to be seduced.
A little wine. A few roses. Some well-placed sweet words.
A fire crackling in the hearth—well, it was summer, so maybe nix the fire. Perhaps a midnight swim instead. Their bodies slick and wet, pressed up together. Close. Tight.
He imagined her breath soft against his ear. Her skin smooth beneath his fingertips. Her breasts, ripe and ready as he bent low, peeling off her bathing suit to reveal—
He fought a shiver, his body reacting more than he’d anticipated to his little fantasy.
Oh, yeah. He was back in form and more than up for the job of seducing Tracy Tannin. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get down to business.
Chapter Seven
“Any nibbles yet on your roommate ad?” Mel asked.
“Not a thing. But it’s only run the one day.” Tracy pulled a rubber band out of her pocket and yanked her hair into a ponytail. Some days she considered whacking it all off— it really was a pain—but she’d never quite worked up the nerve.
The kitchen timer chirped, and she headed to the oven, slipping a baker’s mitt on as she walked.
“Something yummy, I hope.”
“You just had coffee cake.”
“So did you,” Mel countered. “And it’s not like the dessert police are going to come get us. So what is it?” She sniffed. “Chocolate chip?”
“Slice-and-bake special,” Tracy confirmed, opening the oven door.
“You’ve got milk, right?”
“Of course.” Tracy shot Mel a glance as she started sliding the cookies onto a serving tray. “What kind of establishment do you think I’m running here?”
“Speaking of that”—Mel motioned around the kitchen— “I meant to ask earlier. What are you doing in here?” She ran her finger along the edge of one of the photos of Tracy’s grandmother. “Is this the stuff for the museum?”
Tracy plopped a plate of warm, gooey cookies in front of her.
“I think I love you,” Mel said.
“Of course. I feed you.”
“Seriously, what’s all this stuff for?”
“Well, I thought I’d donate it all to the museum ... but now I’m thinking I might keep some of the clothes.”
Mel leaned over the back of the chair and grabbed the white scarf Tracy had tried on earlier. “So you’ve decided your new image is vintage?”
“Maybe.”
“I was expecting you to go more for
Vogue
or
Cosmo
. You know—something hip for the Los Angeles dating scene.”
“That’s still a possibility,” Tracy said, taking the scarf back.
“Speaking of dating, you didn’t do something stupid and advertise for only a
female
roomie, did you?”
“Are you nuts?” Tracy took a bite of cookie, slid down her chair in a moment of pure ecstasy, then sighed. “I’m a natural man-repellant. Why on earth would I bother going to the trouble of limiting my roommates to girls?”
“Dunno. False sense of modesty maybe.”
“Oh, please. This house is huge. And I’m trying to rent out an entire suite with a private entrance. A family of twelve could move in and I’d never even notice.”
Okay. So maybe that was an exaggeration. But the house did have more space than she needed. The second floor was home to three bedroom suites, one with an outside entrance off the balcony. The lower level had the kitchen, ballroom, study, formal living room, dining room, and maid’s quarters. It also had Tracy’s favorite—a private screening room with comfy chairs and a lounge area where Tahlula used to entertain. Tracy had never had a party there, but she did love to watch television in style.
Tracy shook her head and gave her boss a questioning look. “Hey. Now that I think about it, what are you doing here? I mean other than eating and gossiping. I thought you had to work with Penelope tonight.”
“That was my plan, but then I had to get ready for some meetings tomorrow. Not that it matters. Penelope’s having problems.”
“Penelope always has problems. That’s why we’re having problems with
A little wine. A few roses. Some well-placed sweet words.
A fire crackling in the hearth—well, it was summer, so maybe nix the fire. Perhaps a midnight swim instead. Their bodies slick and wet, pressed up together. Close. Tight.
He imagined her breath soft against his ear. Her skin smooth beneath his fingertips. Her breasts, ripe and ready as he bent low, peeling off her bathing suit to reveal—
He fought a shiver, his body reacting more than he’d anticipated to his little fantasy.
Oh, yeah. He was back in form and more than up for the job of seducing Tracy Tannin. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get down to business.
Chapter Seven
“Any nibbles yet on your roommate ad?” Mel asked.
“Not a thing. But it’s only run the one day.” Tracy pulled a rubber band out of her pocket and yanked her hair into a ponytail. Some days she considered whacking it all off— it really was a pain—but she’d never quite worked up the nerve.
The kitchen timer chirped, and she headed to the oven, slipping a baker’s mitt on as she walked.
“Something yummy, I hope.”
“You just had coffee cake.”
“So did you,” Mel countered. “And it’s not like the dessert police are going to come get us. So what is it?” She sniffed. “Chocolate chip?”
“Slice-and-bake special,” Tracy confirmed, opening the oven door.
“You’ve got milk, right?”
“Of course.” Tracy shot Mel a glance as she started sliding the cookies onto a serving tray. “What kind of establishment do you think I’m running here?”
“Speaking of that”—Mel motioned around the kitchen— “I meant to ask earlier. What are you doing in here?” She ran her finger along the edge of one of the photos of Tracy’s grandmother. “Is this the stuff for the museum?”
Tracy plopped a plate of warm, gooey cookies in front of her.
“I think I love you,” Mel said.
“Of course. I feed you.”
“Seriously, what’s all this stuff for?”
“Well, I thought I’d donate it all to the museum ... but now I’m thinking I might keep some of the clothes.”
Mel leaned over the back of the chair and grabbed the white scarf Tracy had tried on earlier. “So you’ve decided your new image is vintage?”
“Maybe.”
“I was expecting you to go more for
Vogue
or
Cosmo
. You know—something hip for the Los Angeles dating scene.”
“That’s still a possibility,” Tracy said, taking the scarf back.
“Speaking of dating, you didn’t do something stupid and advertise for only a
female
roomie, did you?”
“Are you nuts?” Tracy took a bite of cookie, slid down her chair in a moment of pure ecstasy, then sighed. “I’m a natural man-repellant. Why on earth would I bother going to the trouble of limiting my roommates to girls?”
“Dunno. False sense of modesty maybe.”
“Oh, please. This house is huge. And I’m trying to rent out an entire suite with a private entrance. A family of twelve could move in and I’d never even notice.”
Okay. So maybe that was an exaggeration. But the house did have more space than she needed. The second floor was home to three bedroom suites, one with an outside entrance off the balcony. The lower level had the kitchen, ballroom, study, formal living room, dining room, and maid’s quarters. It also had Tracy’s favorite—a private screening room with comfy chairs and a lounge area where Tahlula used to entertain. Tracy had never had a party there, but she did love to watch television in style.
Tracy shook her head and gave her boss a questioning look. “Hey. Now that I think about it, what are you doing here? I mean other than eating and gossiping. I thought you had to work with Penelope tonight.”
“That was my plan, but then I had to get ready for some meetings tomorrow. Not that it matters. Penelope’s having problems.”
“Penelope always has problems. That’s why we’re having problems with
Similar Books
